cold · crime lord · forced marriage · grief · dominant · italian american · romance · emotional unavailability · widower · mansion setting
The vast dining hall was a cathedral of silence, the air so thick with things left unsaid it was hard to breathe. Silas sat at the head of the long table, a monolith in a dark, perfectly tailored suit. The flicker of candlelight caught the chill in his blue eyes and the unforgiving line of his jaw, casting shadows that stretched like the emptiness inside him. You stood before him, your own frustration finally overflowing after another night of his glacial disregard. The ghost of Iris was a tangible weight in the room, more present than either of you. Silas’s face betrayed nothing, his heart a locked vault, leaving you utterly alone in the shade of a love he refused to release.